I Beg Your Pardon, Potter?

Chapter 2

The note landed on Draco's desk in the middle of Transfiguration the next day.

Dear Mr. Malfoy, it read. Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me tonight. For our date. First date even. Wow. Whoops, this is a formal invitation. Please let me know. Sincerely, Harry.

The 'formal' note was bordered by a flurry of broomsticks and golden snitches. Harry had a serious doodling problem. He looked up and glanced around the room surreptitiously. Harry was grinning at him from across the classroom. When Draco caught his eye, Harry flashed him an excited thumbs up. Draco buried his head in his hands, then picked up his quill and scribbled a note back, taking care not to doodle on the margins.

How will we get there on a school night? He used his wand to make the note scuttle along the floor back to Harry, who read his message and smirked. Draco had never seen Harry smirk before. Before he could process Harry's mischievous grin and how that made him feel, he saw the note slide its way back onto the desk in front of him.

I have my ways, it read. Draco frowned at the note, and then looked up and frowned at Harry who shrugged, still smirking. The smirk made Draco's insides feel like liquid. He pushed those feelings down and concentrated on the note.

Fine, he wrote. He tried to come up with something other than a one word answer, but his brain failed him. Just before sending the note back he scribbled, where shall I meet you? Oh, and when?

By the statue of the humpback, one eyed witch on the third floor. 7pm. Don't be late. After this, Harry had doodled a winking face. Draco did not know what to make of the wink. He looked up and nodded at Harry.

They spent the rest of the lesson ignoring each other. Sort of.

...

Seven o'clock rolled around all too quickly. Draco was panicking. His shirt didn't match his socks, but all of his clothes were mysteriously in the wash. He suspected foul play on the part of Zabini. The git. Hopefully Harry wouldn't notice his socks. He didn't expect to be removing his trousers in Hogsmeade, and that would really be the only way in which they might show. So he should be fine.

Plus, it was not as if Potter appreciated those kinds of things anyway.

Not for the first time, Draco wondered what he had gotten himself into. He wasn't sure, and there was no time to think about it now.

...

Harry ran a hand through his hair, then flattened it back down once he realized how much that made it stick up. He was nervous and Draco was late. What on earth had possessed him to ask Malfoy out for real? Why couldn't he have just lusted after him from afar? Damn Seamus and his spiked pumpkin juice. And his dares. He really should have been more suspicious of the sharp taste in his pumpkin juice the second morning Seamus had spiked it. But it was too late to turn back now. He'd brewed a love potion and asked Malfoy out. He might as well lust after him from close by while he had the opportunity. Who knew, maybe something would come of it.

Harry twisted his scarf in his hands. What was taking Draco so long? He chewed his lip for a moment, then went back to twisting the scarf.

And then there he was, sauntering down the corridor in that sexy way that he always did. Except, it was a bit stilted this time, as if he were nervous too. But that couldn't be the case, could it?

Harry raised his hand in greeting, then put it quickly down again, feeling silly.

"Er, hi," he said, as Draco drew up beside him.

"Hello," Draco said. They stood there for a moment, neither of them saying something, before Draco turned back in the direction of the Grand Staircase. Harry grabbed his arm and spun him around. "Huh?" Draco asked, confused. "Did I not kiss you hello or something?" Harry blushed.